


Of Kittens, Flower Shops and Were-babies

by mithrel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Childbirth, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, Kittens, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Schmoop, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some post-college graduation fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Kittens, Flower Shops and Were-babies

Lydia’s invited them all over to her house. Strike that–her _small mansion_ that she shares with Jackson. And not _all_ of them, just him, Scott, Allison and Derek.

It’s weird. They stayed close through college, but they’ve drifted apart some since graduation.

Derek still keeps in touch with the members of his pack; Boyd’s doing postgrad work at their old college, where Danny’s working as an IT professor. Erica owns a flowershop, and Isaac works with Scott at the vet clinic.

Jackson’s some sort of high-powered CEO executive type. His company is one of the most successful software firms in decades and people are touting him as the next Bill Gates (even though he never did any of the actual programming, which Stiles thinks is unfair.)

So now they’re sitting here waiting to hear her “news.” She comes in, beaming and takes Jackson’s hand. “So I thought you should know,” she pauses to squeal, “I’m pregnant!”

After that it’s a mess of Allison and Lydia laughing and hugging each other and Scott slapping Jackson on the back. Stiles gets up to hug Lydia too, and high-five Jackson, who rolls his eyes. Derek just nods at both of them, but he’s got a small smile on his lips, and they know what a sourwolf he is.

“So do you know what it is yet?” Allison asks.

Lydia shakes her head. “We just found out.”

“When are you due?” Scott wants to know.

“In April.”

“That’s great!” Allison says, and hugs her again. Derek catches Stiles’ eye and he shrugs. Must be a girl thing.

***

“Oh, here, let me get that for you!” Stiles says as Lydia stands on her tiptoes to reach a petri dish.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Stiles, I’m pregnant, not _dying._ ”

“Whatever, you shouldn’t even be working in your condition, that’s what maternity leave’s for y’know?”

Lydia snorts. “Yeah, because people dying of AIDS will wait until I have my baby.”

Stiles is about to say that she’s not likely to find a cure in the next few months anyway, but this is _Lydia._ She’s already found the cause of fibromyalgia, so who knows what she’ll do next?

He does the smart thing for once and doesn’t say anything else, going back to his microscope.

***

When he gets home, Derek is sprawled on the couch, still in his uniform. The front of it is soaked in blood.

“Whoa, you OK?”

“No,” Derek says.

Stiles has been in this situation before. He gets Derek another beer to replace the empty one on the table and sits in silence.

After a moment Derek speaks again. “There was a four-car pileup on the 405.”

Stiles winces. “Ouch.”

Derek nods and takes a swig of his beer. “One of the victims was a five-year old girl.” He pauses, swallows, then continues thickly, “She died in my arms.”

“Ah, man, I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

Which they both know is bullshit, but Stiles doesn’t challenge it. Derek’s werewolf abilities give him an edge as a med tech, and perpetual sourness or not, Stiles knows it hits him in the gut whenever he loses somebody. Maybe it’s an alpha thing, or maybe it’s just a Derek thing.

So he’s as quiet as he can be for the rest of the evening, and he spoons Derek behind him that night, even though he growls.

***

That weekend Stiles’ phone rings way too early in the morning. He gropes on the bedside table for it and manages to flip it open.

“Wha’ you wan’?”

“Stiles? It’s Scott.”

He sounds way too awake for–Stiles squints at the alarm clock–7:30 on a Saturday morning. “What?”

“Do you know any cat people?”

***

So it turns out that the local Humane Society (which Scott helps free of charge, because he’s a sap) brought in two abandoned kittens that morning.

And why _Scott_ is trying to find people to adopt them is beyond him. Isn’t that the Humane Society’s job?

And it _also_ turns out that when he called Stiles “to see if he knew anyone who’d want a cat,” what he _meant_ was “You should adopt them.”

Stiles knows how Derek would react to that without even bringing it up.

“Just…just come and take a look at them, will you?” Scott pleads.

Stiles sighs. “Fine,” he says, against his better judgment. “But I want it noted that this is against my better judgment.”

“Duly noted,” Scott says dryly.

***

He should have gone with his first instinct and stayed the hell away, because the kittens are _adorable._ They're old enough that their eyes and ears are open, but they're still wobbling around like the floor is moving beneath them.

“And _why_ can't the Humane Society find homes for them?” Stiles asks.

Scott just shifts uncomfortably as Isaac takes the kittens out of their box. One of them is a little gray tabby with a black tip on its tail, and the other is a ball of orange fluff.

The gray kitten totters toward him and Stiles wiggles his fingers. It starts stalking his hand, low to the ground, tail twitching, then pounces and Stiles knows any further protests he might make are useless.

He takes the kitten home with him, dreading when Derek gets home and he'll have to explain to The Glare. But Persephone, as he decided to call her on the way home, is so adorable he doesn't think even Derek will be proof against her.

Things don't go as he expected, though. As soon as Derek comes in, Persephone hisses and leaps off his lap.

Derek stares after the departing gray streak, his eyebrows lowering ominously. “Stiles...”

“Look, I know you don't like cats but Scott called me and she was so little, and they _abandoned_ her, Derek, just left her in a trash can to die–”

Derek's expression doesn't soften at all.

“–and I'm sure when she gets used to you–”

“Stiles. You don't get it. It's not _going_ to get used to me. Cats are predators, and when they smell a werewolf all they think is ‘ _bigger predator._ ’”

“Scott and Isaac don't have a problem,” Stiles mutters mutinously.

“Scott and Isaac aren't Alphas,” Derek says, like it should be obvious. And, OK, it _is_ obvious, but Stiles isn't sure why that would matter.

“Can you at least _try_?” Stiles asks. “For me?”

Derek scowls, but finally huffs “Fine! But don't be disappointed when it doesn't work.”

Persephone is cowering under their bed, all puffed-out fur and glowing eyes, and when Stiles crouches down and peers under she spits at him.

“Hey, hey! Don't get mad at me, I'm the one who wants you!”

Her fur slicks down and she sniffs Stiles' fingers when he reaches out to her, but she won't let him pull her out.

“Fine, you try,” Stiles says, giving up.

“Oh sure, you want the Alpha werewolf to reach under the bed and pull out the paranoid, possibly rabid cat.”

“She's not rabid!" Stiles protests. “You're not rabid, are you, no!” he coos at the still-hidden cat. “Who's a good girl!” He trails off at Derek's incredulous stare. “Shut up.”

Derek just rolls his eyes, but he squats down next to Stiles. There's a warning hiss from the cavern under the bed.

“So what is it about you that bugs them? Is it the scent, or...”

“It's not just _me_!” Derek says irritatedly. “It's all Alphas. And a big part of it is pheromones, yes.”

“So how come Scott and Isaac can control it?”

“Scott and Isaac were turned. They still smell basically human, but with a wolf overlaid. I'm a natural werewolf, not only an Alpha. Even when I'm not shifted I act and smell like a wolf.” He gives Stiles a sudden penetrating stare. “You must have noticed it.”

Stiles blushes, because he has. Derek's _predatory._ He doesn't walk, he _stalks._ He doesn't talk, he _orders._ It's a big part of what freaked him the hell out when they first met. And what turned him on, although he refused to admit that until much later.

Derek smirks at him.

“So can you...I dunno, tone it down?” Stiles asks, only to get a withering glare in return.

“Just to prove to you that this was a bad idea...” Derek says, closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths and reaches his hand under the bed.

Persephone growls warningly at him, then her fur slicks back and she _cowers._ But she lets Derek scratch her behind the ears.

“There, see? I told you.” Stiles says.

It takes a lot of coaxing, and some kitty treats, but eventually Persephone pokes her head out. Stiles scoops her up and puts her in his lap. “We're keeping her.”

Derek heaves a monumental sigh. “Fine. It's not like I'm here much anyway.”

Stiles refrains from grinning, but only just. “Don't you want to know her name?”

Derek makes an exaggerated _do tell_ gesture.

“Persephone!” Stiles says, his grin breaking out.

“Persephone,” Derek repeats, deadpan. “Like the queen of the underworld?”

“Yeah! Plus we can call her 'Per'! Get it, cat, purr?”

Derek's eyes go red and Stiles hastily scuttles out of the room.

***

When Stiles next sees Scott, he’s smirking.

“What’s up?”

“Hm? Oh, one of the guys coming into the clinic has a crush on Isaac.”

“Really?”

Scott nods. “His dog is pregnant, and he keeps coming in to ask questions.”

Stiles’ brow furrows. “And that means he likes Isaac?”

“Uh-huh. Because whenever he asks me he just has one or two questions before he leaves, but with Isaac it’s ‘How many puppies is she having?’ ‘When are they due?’ ‘What does she need?’ ‘How do I keep them healthy?’ ‘Can I have your phone number?’”

Stiles snorts.

“OK, maybe not that last one. Isaac’s got no idea, dunno how he managed.”

Stiles tends to agree, because if the guy is being so blatant that _Scott_ noticed it… “What’s he gonna do when the puppies are grown up?”

Scott shrugs.

“Does it still count as Munchhausen’s if it’s animals?”

Scott snickers.

***

One day before work Stiles decides to stop in at Erica and Allison’s shop. Scott makes enough money that Allison doesn’t _need_ to work, but she’d said she’d go stir-crazy at home, so when Erica opened a flower shop Allison started a café in the same building.

Erica beams at him when he comes in. “Stiles! Haven’t seen you in awhile!”

“Hey, Erica,” he says, kissing her on the cheek. “Anything new in?”

“We just got some nice carnations in yesterday.”

“Three carnations,” Stiles says immediately. On one occasion he’d bought four and brought the last one home for Derek, but sleeping on the couch for a week discouraged a repeat of that.

She brings out three different colored carnations from the back. “$5.36.”

He pays and takes two of the flowers. “Keep one for yourself.”

She smiles again and puts the red flower behind her ear. The diamond ring on her finger catches the light as she does.

“You guys set a date yet?”

She shakes her head, after making sure the flower is securely in place. “Boyd wants to wait until he’s finished his studies.”

“You’ll have to change your name.”

Erica smirks. “We’re hyphenating.”

 _Ah._ “Well, I need to go get coffee.”

“Allison will be happy to see you.”

There’s no line at the counter, and Allison lights up when she sees him. “Stiles! Decaf iced latte?”

“Yep.”

They make small talk while she makes his drink, and when he hands her the money he includes the yellow flower.

“What would Scott think if he knew you were giving me flowers?” she teases.

“That he needs to step it up in the husband department,” Stiles replies, putting his change in the tip jar. “Later, Allison!”

He gives the white flower to Lydia, and she puts it in a test tube because she can’t find a vase.

***

Things continue more-or-less as normal for a few more weeks. Lydia refuses to go on maternity leave, even when Jackson comes in and glares at her, Isaac is still oblivious to the guy crushing on him, and Derek still pretends to hate Seph, even though Stiles has seen him reading on the couch with her cuddled into his neck.

But one day when Stiles is working in the lab, Lydia makes a small sound, then says, “Shit!” in a strained, breathless voice he’s never heard from her.

“What?” he demands instantly.

She’s gone pale. “Stiles…I think my water just broke.”

“B-but you’re not due yet, are you?”

She shakes her head. “Not for another three weeks.”

“Okay, well, sit down, I’ll call 911–”

“And Jackson,” she says.

“911 first,” he insists.

“911, what is your emergency?” the operator asks.

“Hi, I’m at work, and my coworker just went into labor.”

“Alright sir, what is your location?”

Stiles gives her the address.

“We’ll send EMS right away. Stay on the line. Try to keep her calm.”

Stiles almost laughs at that. Who’s going to keep _him_ calm?

“Jackson,” Lydia gasps.

“Alright, alright, where’s your phone?”

Lydia hands it to him, and he hits the speed-dial labeled “Jackson.”

“Whittemore Integrated Software, how may I direct your call?”

“I need to talk to Jackson Whittemore.”

He can almost hear the woman frown. “He’s in a meeting at the moment.”

“I don’t care if he’s talking to the goddamn President of the United States, his wife’s in labor!”

There’s a put-upon sigh at the end of the phone. “I’ll transfer you, sir.”

After a few notes of hold music, Jackson’s voice sounds irritably in his ear. “Lydia, what do you want? I’m busy!”

“Jackson, it’s Stiles. Lydia’s in labor.”

“What? _Now?_ ”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yes, _now._ ”

“But she wasn’t due for another three weeks!”

“Look, we’ve already called 911, you better get your ass over here before they get here!”

“I’ll be right there!”

***

Stiles hangs up and looks at Lydia. She’s sweating and panting.

“OK, deep breaths, come on. EMS will be here soon.”

“Jackson–”

“He’s on his way. Just relax.”

She grabs his hand and nearly squeezes the bones out of it during a contraction. He grits his teeth and tries to smile at her.

A few seconds later there’s the sound of sirens, and Derek and another paramedic appear at the door.

Stiles doesn’t bother to ask why they sent _him,_ just moves out of the way. Lydia clutches at his hand. “Stiles!”

“It’ll be fine, but you have to let them do their job, OK?”

She nods and closes her eyes, letting go of his hand.

The female paramedic takes her shoes off, then helps her out of her pants and underwear. Then she and Derek get her on a gurney.

As they’re heading out, a sports car screeches to a halt in front of the building and Jackson bursts out of it.

“Lydia?”

“She’s fine, Jackson, but we need to get her to the hospital,” Derek says.

Jackson’s jaw sets. “I’m coming with you!”

They load Lydia into the back of the ambulance and Derek and Jackson go with her. The other paramedic gets in the back too.

Stiles stands there, not sure what to do with himself. “Get in the passenger seat,” Derek calls to him, and Stiles does, over the driver’s objections.

He cranes around to see what’s going on.

“She’s dilated to five centimeters,” the female paramedic says.

Derek’s fixing up a needle and solution. He injects it into Lydia’s vein. “This will help with the pain.”

She nods, then moans.

“Breathe through it.” Derek’s partner says.

“Will the baby be OK?” Jackson wants to know.

“How far along is she?” Derek asks.

“Uh…nine months?”

“Thirty…six weeks,” Lydia gasps.

Derek grimaces. “Probably, but we’ll have to see.”

Lydia moans again. Stiles doesn’t envy Jackson his broken fingers.

“She’s fully dilated,” Derek’s partner says, then, surprisingly, moves out of the way to let him take over.

Stiles boggles at the idea that _Derek’s_ going to deliver a _baby,_ especially when his partner’s a woman. Don’t they instinctively know how to do this?

Derek’s partner takes Lydia’s other hand. “You’re doing great.”

“It hurts!”

“I know, honey. The painkiller should be kicking in soon. When you feel a contraction I need you to push, OK?”

Lydia nods, then screams. Stiles jumps, and Jackson winces, but Derek and his partner seem to take it in stride.

“Good job, Lydia.”

She’s breathing shallowly now, and a few seconds later she screams again, then focuses on Jackson. “This is all your fault!”

“ _My_ fault?” he repeats indignantly. “You wanted kids too!”

“I hate you!”

“They all say that,” Derek tells Jackson, who’s looking wounded.

“What the fuck do you–” Lydia stops to scream “–know about it?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Derek says, deadpan, and despite himself Stiles has to stifle a smirk, because even with her hair sticking to her face and her skin blotchy, Lydia’s _scary_.

Stiles turns around to look out the front window, since shouldn’t they be at the hospital by now?

“I can see the head,” Derek says, just as the buildings of Beacon Hills Hospital come into sight. “One more good push…”

Lydia screams like she’s dying, and then subsides. Stiles waits to hear the baby crying, but there’s nothing.

“She’s not breathing,” Derek says, and Stiles’ heart clenches. His partner clears the baby’s nose and mouth. Still nothing.

Then Derek smacks her on the butt, and she shrieks indignantly. Stiles smiles.

“It’s a girl,” Derek says, and, wow, he’s actually _smiling._

They wipe the baby off and Derek hands her to Lydia, as the ambulance pulls into the ER entrance.

Then there’s doctors and nurses everywhere and Lydia and the baby are being whisked away. Jackson looks at Stiles helplessly.

“Hey, she’ll be fine. They both will,” Stiles says, feeling weird reassuring _Jackson_ of all people.

“Yeah, sure.”

***

A half hour later they’re let into Lydia’s room. She looks tired and worried.

“Where’s the baby?” Jackson asks. Stiles elbows him.

“They have her in the NICU for observation, since she was a week early and her lungs aren’t fully developed yet,” she says, tears starting in her eyes.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Stiles says. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. That ‘painkiller’ Derek gave me was a placebo, since the birth was preterm.”

Stiles manages not to smirk, since he has a feeling it will get him smacked.

Just then a nurse comes in with a pink bundle. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Lydia’s face lights up, but she motions the nurse to give her to Jackson.

He holds her like she’s made of glass, his eyes about three times their normal size.

“Is she OK?”

The nurse smiles. “She’s fine. Congratulations, daddy.”

“You should be congratulating her, not me,” Jackson mumbles, and Lydia smiles at him.

“OK, so maybe I don’t hate you.”

Jackson leans down to kiss her as Stiles slips out of the room.

***

That night, Derek’s exhausted, but it’s a satisfied type of exhausted, not like he gets when there was a horrible accident.

“You look like you had a good day.”

Derek nods. “Stuff like that’s why I took this job.”

Stiles nods back, then says, “Hey, why’d you deliver the baby instead of your partner?”

“Sheila’s just an EMT. She’s not certified for that.”

“Ah.”

Derek fidgets, looking like he’s swallowed something that didn’t agree with him. “You ever think about…”

“What?” Stiles asks.

“Nothing!”

Stiles glares at him. “Do I ever think about _what_?”

“Having kids,” Derek mumbles, so quietly Stiles almost doesn’t hear him.

He blinks. “Uh…not really.”

“Oh, OK,” Derek says, and turns away from him.

Stiles dodges around in front of him. “Hey, hey, just because I’ve never thought about it doesn’t mean I’m against it!” He pauses. “Do _you_ want kids?”

Derek mumbles something else. All Stiles catches is “werewolves” and “pack instinct,” then “You’d be a great father.”

“And you wouldn’t be?” Stiles shoots back.

“Uh. _Werewolf._ ”

“So? You could teach them to ride bikes and climb trees. And you’re an EMT, you can fix their boo-boos!”

Derek grimaces at the word “boo-boos,” but doesn’t comment, which Stiles takes as a win.

“Were you thinking of adoption, or surrogates?”

Now Derek’s the one taken aback. “I want them to be my blood. Yours and mine.”

Something warm curls in Stiles’ gut at the thought. “OK, surrogates then. We’ll start looking into it.”

Derek smiles again, but it’s better this time, because he’s smiling at _him_.

 

_Epilogue_

Stiles visits Lydia when they release her from the hospital. Jackson’s actually taking time off to help take care of the baby. When he comes in with another flower for Lydia and a teddy bear for the baby, he’s surprised to find Danny there as well as Jackson. He’s holding the baby and making faces at her.

“Hey, Danny.”

“Oh, hey Stiles,” Danny says, blushing slightly and handing the baby to Jackson.

“How’s the newest member of the Whittemore family?”

Lydia smiles. “She’s fine. Perfectly healthy.”

“She didn’t…inherit anything?” Stiles asks, with a glance at Danny.

“Not that we know of. We might want Derek to check her out just to make sure. Thank him, by the way.”

Stiles nods. “You pick a name yet?”

“Her name is Alicia Lee Whittemore, and she’s our daughter,” Jackson says, his voice an odd combination of fond and fierce.

“Can I–”

Jackson passes Alicia to him. “Hi Alicia,” he coos. “Who’s the prettiest baby in the world? Yes, you are!”

He ignores the shaken heads and rolled eyes.


End file.
